


The Holiest of Words

by bramblefae



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bramblefae/pseuds/bramblefae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens after Hawke and Anders leave Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

_One word. The holiest of words. Your anchor to humanity. The single tiny thing that the Templars could never take away from you, never even knew they could. It is a balm, a benediction. Even Justice shifts and settles as the word floats through your mind._

_So much screaming, so much death. So much more to come. This is needful, this is right. This is just. You look down at your Lady Hawke and wish, for a moment, to share this word with her. You don’t and feel a small wash of shame at your fear. She stood by your side when she should not have but you fear that this, too, may be justice. To live, to see always the stonework shooting all over the city. And the limbs. To hear the screaming._

_Many things will be more difficult now. Better to keep the word. You’ve given her everything else. You’re not even sure you could say the word, now._

_So many years._

_Besides, it wouldn’t be the same. The part of your head that houses this word grows ever smaller. Slowly, yes, but steady. You frown at this thought but don’t know why._   
_Maybe it’s Justice. Maybe it’s not._   
_That’s something else you keep from her. How hard it is sometimes just to be you._

_You look down at her again, curled around your bent knees in her sleep, like a cat. Maybe she knows how hard it is. Sometimes when she looks at you, you think that she just might. You think that she would know what a gift the holiest of words would be to her. But you can’t be sure and if that link is ever broken…_

**_No._ **

_You ease back down to lay against your Lady Hawke and take her into your arms to try to sleep. But the voice you hear as sleep begins the slow drowning of your consciousness isn’t hers._

_It’s Hers. Your mother. As you hear Her every night, saying the Holiest of Words. Your anchor to humanity and the last thing she ever said to you._

_Your name._

 


	2. Blessed Andraste, Help Us In Our Hour of Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anders and Hawke get started, and everyone else finds out what he's done.

     Reports of the explosion in Kirkwall started rolling in with no explanation. At first, it was just odd reports of a strange beam of light seen from as far away as Highever. Once the refugees started coming, though, the stories started as well- the Kirkwall Chantry destroyed with everyone in it, blood magic overtaking the city, the Knight Commander possessed by demons-the stories were so horrifying and so outrageous that no one knew what to believe.  
     Alistair Theirin wiped a hand across his face and took a deep breath as he turned away from the window to deal with the letter in his other hand.   
     He glanced at his closest advisor and friend, Teagan Guerrin, then read out loud, "I have taken charge of this Maker-forsaken mess because there is no one else. The facts are few: Knight Commander Meredith is dead. The "Champion of Kirkwall" is gone. I, personally, believe that she did not know about the explosion ahead of time-she seemed as shocked as the rest of us. I am certain, though, that the apostate called Anders is responsible-he admitted as much and he was last seen with the Champion. I do not know if she is with him of her own accord but I suspect she is."  
     The King of Ferelden sank into the chair at his side and drew a shuddering breath.   
     "Maker's breath, Teagan. What now? This is from Ser Cullen in Kirkwall. I know of him. He survived Uldred's attempt on the Tower at Lake Calenhad."  
     Teagan sat forward and looked fearfully at the letter in Alistair's hands. "Was this apostate with the Champion when we met her in Kirkwall?"  
     Alistair looked miserable. "Yes. He's also a renegade Grey Warden."  
     "What?!"  
     "My wife conscripted him, I suspect, to keep him from the Templars, and I let her do it! Maker!"

 

**::**::**

 

     No one speaks as we make camp. We are exhausted and they are all at least a little afraid of me. I am trying to process how I can feel so miserable and so exhultant at the same time. We don't dare make a fire and Merrill starts passing out hunks of bread that she's managed to get somewhere. She smiles sadly at me as she hands me a piece.  
 _Don't you dare pity me! You, of all people!_  
     I say nothing though and we eat in silence. Finally, I can stand no more.  
     "Look, is anyone going to kill me if I try to get some sleep?" Hawke opens her mouth and I gesture shortly at her so she closes it and frowns at me.  
     Varric answers wearily. "I'm too tired and I don't think Bianca cares, Anders."   
     I can feel the blood leave my face at that. Oh, Maker. I can't remember the last time he called me anything but Blondie.  
     He looks up at me as he tucks his crossbow into its own blanket, next to his bedroll. "Listen, we have a lot to talk about but not until we sleep a bit. Who's taking first watch?"  
     Hawke glances at me then says quietly, "I will." We both know neither of us will be sleeping. We will have to talk. I'm still trying to figure out why she didn't kill me. And I don't know how I feel about it either way.  
     Everyone settles in and soon it's just Hawke and I sitting beside each other not quite touching. Finally I say, "Why?"   
     She looks startled, and then tilts her head. "I was just thinking about how to ask you the same question."  
     I am sitting with my knees drawn up and I look down at the ground between my feet. "I don't think I've gone mad. I planned that explosion, knowing that I was going to kill innocent people. I know that they deserve justice every bit as much as we mages do. I am a murderer."   
     I don't tell her that destroying the Knight Commander with every bit of destructive magic I've ever learned made my entire being shudder with a joy so fierce that I think I frightened Justice a little.  
     She sighs then I feel her touch, feather-light, on my arm. "I will pray to the Maker for the victims and their families every day for the rest of my life, Anders, but I..." She looks down thoughtfully.  
"Maybe there could have been another way to avoid what happened in the Gallows. Maybe if someone had listened about Meredith. But..."  
     Her voice lowers into a whisper, and I can hear her tears in it. "I think...I think you were right."   
     Hawke looks at my face, finally, her eyes full of her sorrow. "There can be no peace."  
     I gather her into my arms and let her spill the tears that I cannot.  
 _Regrettable, but necessary._  
     I think that's Justice but I'm too tired to be sure.

 

**::**::**

 

_You are in the barn shoveling shit. You are angry because he hit you. Again. Even the very word 'Father' pisses you off._   
_You are twelve and nearly as tall as he is and he hit you in front of people._   
_With each brutal jab with the shovel, you get more and more angry and when you feel the tingle that starts in your elbows you begin to panic._   
_Oh, Maker. Not now._   
_You take a deep breath and another but the tingle is now in your wrists and you drop the shovel and bend over, clasping your hands between your knees._   
_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._   
_You take another deep breath and another and the tingle begins to recede and you take another, slower, deep breath and then you find yourself sprawling on your face in cow shit because he has hit you from behind._   
_You hear him shouting and then you are on your feet shouting back and the tingle roars back through your arms and into your hands and you scream into his face turn around and throw your hands out in front of you._   
_The wall of the barn is on fire but you don’t care yet._   
_You walk out of the barn to the house and to your mother._

_**::**::** _

 

 

     I wake up with the smell of flames in the back of my nose and I sit up abruptly and look down at my hands. Andraste's tits, I hate dreaming sometimes. I rub my eyes, then absently shove my hair out of my face and look around me.  
     My waking has apparently interrupted the conversation everyone was having. Maker's breath, I'm tired.   
     Heaving an internal sigh, I say, not caring how weary I sound, "Don't stop on my account. So, what's to do about the terrorist?"  
     "Anders!" Hawke actually sounds shocked. A wave of love washes over me at that and I almost feel Justice sigh in resignation. It nearly makes me feel like smiling.   
     "Love." I say this with more calm than I feel. To be honest, I'm pretty terrified about the things that have to come next.   
"I meant what I said last night. I know what I've done and I have a pretty good idea what it will mean to each one of you. This needs settled."  
     I see Varric study my face intently as Hawke says flatly, staring at her feet, "Anders lives. I love all of you but if you can't live with that you can leave. I will defend him if I have to."  
     Her voice breaks and she clears her throat before going on. "I will understand anyone who can't deal with this and I will still love you."   
She looks around at all of us then, with narrowed eyes. "But if any of you lay a hand on him, I will kill you."  
     There is silence in this circle of friends until Varric looks over at his crossbow and says, "You hear that, Bianca? Leave Blondie alone."   
There is nervous giggling but it's too much for me. I stand up and walk away from the group while I swallow back tears. Dammit, Varric.   
     After several minutes, I hear someone behind me and I know it's Varric before he speaks.  
     "Come on. You're right about one thing-we need to get this settled."  
     I nod and walk back to the group and sit down. Aveline hasn't looked at me since we left Kirkwall and I am not surprised that she's the first to speak. I'm also not surprised that it is to Hawke that she directs her words.  
     "Someone has to clean up his mess, Hawke. It's fine for you two to run away and avoid any responsibility but some of us remember our obligations!"   
     Hawke looks stricken and I can't stand it.  
     "Aveline, the city will need you, that's true but don't think that any of us gets to run away, no matter where we go."   
     I speak quietly then I look up and lock gazes with her, raising my voice a notch.   
     "But don't you, for one minute, lay any of this at her feet!"   
     My look dares her to say something else. She backs down and stands up.   
     "Well, you can't be surprised that I won't stay. I will do you one last favor, Hawke. I won't send anyone after you, but if I ever see either of you in Kirkwall..."  
     She backed away from finishing her threat and Varric said sardonically, "Very dramatic, Aveline. I won't need to embellish that one at all."  
     "Fuck you, Varric."  
     Varric nods politely at Aveline then turns back to Hawke and me. "My opinion of things doesn't matter at all at this point. But I think I will do less harm and more good, to you and to everyone else, if I don't know what you're doing or where you're at."   
     Hawke looks at Varric, distraught, and he cuts her off before she can speak. "No, Hawke. I'm the last person to judge either of you and you know you're my favorite mage. And I'm pretty fond of him, even if he is ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag."   
     He smiles at me to take the sting out of his words but I know he believes them and I also know that he has to believe them to be able to live with himself.  
     "But we will all be better if I'm in Kirkwall running my mouth about how I have no idea where you went, and holy shit, Meredith was nuts."  
     I know he's right and I see that Hawke knows it too.   
     "So you'll leave with Aveline?" Hawke asks.  
     "Well, she's going to need someone to protect her. Daisy, you should come back, too. The Alienage will need you, I think."   
     Merrill looks surprised at this and I bite back all of my sarcastic commentary. I want her to be gone from us, anyway.   
     "I...Do you think so, Varric?" She sounds hesitant but she stands and begins packing her things away and I am relieved.  
     Less than an hour later, it is just Hawke and me. How quickly they all abandon us.   
     Hawke walks around the camp, picking up random things, packing as she goes. "Where do we go now?"  
     I am almost excited when I answer her. "Denerim."


	3. The Secret Blue Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hawke does the healing, plans are made, and some things are getting back to normal.

_You are proud of yourself._   
_When the man in the square asks you how old you are, you hold up six fingers and he gives you an apple because you are so smart._   
_You are smiling and thinking about maybe sharing that apple with Mama as you walk into the house. Mama is cutting something for supper and she smiles at you when you say hullo._   
_It is just a small cut but the pain in Mama’s face and the blood on her hand makes you run to her and without knowing why, you take her finger in your small hands and share your blue light with her._   
_You are still proud of yourself until you see that Mama is afraid. She hugs you hard to her chest and whispers into your hair._   
_Words like ‘love’ and ‘thank you’ and “blessed of the Maker” and 'don’t tell anyone, sweetie’._   
_The blue light is your secret._   
_You can’t even tell Father because he will shout and maybe hit._   
_But mother knows and she loves you._

**_::**::_ **

 

     I shake myself out of my reverie as Hawke pats a very pregnant elf woman on the belly and smiles at her. She looks across the room to me and I smile as well.  
     I have been constantly terrified that someone will discover that she is the famed Champion of Kirkwall but I also know that people will only see what they want to see. Everyone knows the Champion is a fearsome apostate mage who wields fire like it's a part of her.   
     That's true-she has an innate grasp of fire that I envy sometimes. But what they don't know is that she's a better healer than I am. And that is how we're making our slow way to Ferelden.  
     Letting her do the healing is both odd and a bit a relief. I love watching her calm competence and I remember feeling that way. On the other hand, it's nice to sit back and watch.  
     It's my job, as Hawke tends to her patients, to talk to people. I have always been good at talking, both to my advantage and to my disadvantage, to be honest.   
     Hawke walks over to where I am standing and leans her head on my shoulder for a moment.   
     "She will deliver soon, yes?" I ask her. I feel her nod and she straightens up and looks around the room to the other displaced folks.   
     Some are from Kirkwall, but surprisingly few. Most are just the people who've never had much of anything. People for whom medical attention is scarce.  
     I quickly reach out to touch her face and she smiles and rests her hand, for a moment, on my hip. I love her so much.  
     I scan the room and locate the slightly worried looking elven man as he walks in looking for his woman.   
     "I will go tell him that she's doing well and that we'll need the boat as soon as she's safely delivered." Hawke nods and then walks over to a small knot of women who are whispering and looking harried.   
     I cross the room in long, easy strides, comfortable in my anonymity. I speak quickly with the elf then blend into the walls to listen to a group of men talk after I heard the words Kirkwall and Chantry.  
     "Apparently that Knight Commander lady was possessed by some sorta demon-blew the Chantry right up and killed most of mages,too. They say that that elf what was First Enchanter was the one that put the demon in her and then the Champion came riding into the Gallows from around the harbor and just laid waste to all of it until the Templars and the Guard showed up, then she was off and no one's seen her since."  
     "Wait! The Champion of Kirkwall is a mage?!" One man asks incredulously.   
     "And a woman!" says another.   
     I walk away because I am both amused and disgusted.

**_::**::_ **

 

     Aveline stood with her arms crossed, watching her men direct and help in the cleanup. At least the most horrific part of it was done, although she knew that none of those who worked on that would ever forget the nightmare of that mess.   
     Many times over the last weeks, the Guard Captain regretted her promise to Hawke. Someone needed to pay for this! She scoffed at herself. By someone, she meant some thing.   
     She'd always known that Anders was not a good man, but you couldn't tell Hawke anything. Hawke was raised apostate by an apostate, so of course she was going to see nothing but romance in the way Anders lived in Darktown like he liked it there.   
     She'd always thought that Hawke was a good sort, even if she was a mage, but over the last few weeks, she found herself wondering more than once if she should have let Wesley deal with them outside Lothering. It wouldn't have stopped this but it would have, by the Maker, allowed her to get vengeance for the dead!  
     Aveline saw the light glint off of a Templar breastplate to her left side and glanced over, snorting when she saw who it was.   
     "Checking to make sure I'm not coddling my men, Knight Commander?"  
     At this greeting, Ser Cullen looked as though he'd eaten something that disagreed with him.   
     He replied somewhat stiffly. "Guard Captain, I think you've done a fine job holding the city together these past weeks. I am grateful for your service."   
     Aveline snorted again.   
     "Gratitude, is it? Grateful that I'm doing the job you accused me of not doing?"  
     Cullen heaved a frustrated sigh. "I can see that politeness was the wrong tactic. Do you hear from the Champion?"   
     "No. And I'd better not. "  
     At that, Cullen looked curiously at Aveline, but said nothing.

 


	4. I Will Not Be Controlled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a couple of "eff you"s are given and shots are fired across the bow.

_You look into the visor of the Templar wrapping the chains around your wrists. You see the shine of eyes in that darkness, then it’s gone._   
_The bastard won’t look you in the face while he binds you._   
_You stare into those black depths and hear your mother weeping._   
_You won’t look at her because you don’t want to weep in front of these monsters._   
_The binding is finished and the coward turns you away from him, to face everyone else._   
_The Templar is speaking but you don’t listen._   
_Something about far away and say goodbye now and no contact. They don’t even let you pack clothes._   
_Nothing can go with you._   
_Except that mother runs to you, shoves your pillow into your arms and embraces you._   
_She tells you to be good, and that the Maker will watch over you and she tells you she loves you and then the templars push you apart._   
_You turn to look at her one last time and see your father instead, looking smug and relieved._   
_With your mother’s last words in your mind and her touch on your soul, you smile sweetly at him and waggle your fingers._   
_And when he blanches, you laugh because he will never touch you again._

 

**_::**::_ **

 

     I wake up with someone's hand on my chest, soft but firm, and I jerk violently and sit up. Hawke is looking at me as she slowly moves her hand from my chest. I catch it, and hold her small soft hand in both of mine.  
     "You were laughing in your sleep. I wasn't sure whether to wake you or not."  
     I wrinkle my nose. "I was dreaming about my father."  
     Hawke raises a brow. "Were you close to him?"  
     "No. I hated that bastard."  
     I pull her down onto my chest and kiss her, chasing that particular demon away.

 

**_::**::_ **

 

     Alistair sat at his massive desk, holding his head in his hands as he listened to his wife explain this mess to Teagan. He was, again, grateful that she was raised to be a diplomat.  
     When Alistair thought Teagan's eyes couldn't get any wider, they narrowed suddenly, and Alistair groaned inwardly.  
     "So, what you're saying is that you allowed some sort of spirit from the blighted Fade to masquerade as a Grey Warden...?"  
     Dailisa Cousland sighed and narrowed her own eyes.  
     Maker help me, Alistair thought and wondered vaguely if he could sneak out of the room before they came to blows. But when she spoke, it was calmly.  
     "Teagan, you're being deliberately grouchy. None of this is the point. The point is that Justice is noble and decent, but he's still Just.  
     "As for what happened to Rolan and the others...I don't know, but I still suspect that it was a panic reaction from Anders before Justice could get, I don't know, settled in? If Anders thought he was being recaptured by the Templars or betrayed by the Grey Wardens, which he was, on both counts..." She trailed off and sighed.  
     Teagan frowned, but he leaned back in his chair. "So, what stops him being an abomination? Is there a difference?"  
     "Yes." Alistair and his queen answered together.  
     Teagan lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head, questioning.  
     The king sighed and said, "I don't pretend to understand it at all, Teagan, but just as there are demons.."  
     "Which are supposedly spirits corrupted by the desires of man." Dailisa interjected.  
     Alistair nodded before going on, "There are also, I guess, good spirits, who stand for mankind's less terrible ideals, like Valor, and Compassion..."  
     "And Faith." The queen interjected again, sharing a look with Alistair.  
     He nodded again and sat back, letting her take over.  
     She looked at Teagan then. "And Justice."  
     "They are not the same at all but they, too, are driven by their purpose. They are, though, more inclined to be passive with their hosts."  
     Teagan still looked skeptical. "You both seem to know a lot about this sort of thing."  
     The king and his wife exchanged the kind of look that only passes between couples who have been together a long time and Alistair answered. "We...Anders is not the first such person we've known."  
     The queen stood and began pacing. "Teagan, the thing is, I would bet my last sovereign that Anders is a good man. His magic is healing magic. He ALWAYS was willing to help people. He was pissed at me for a long time about Amaranthine...." A shadow passed over Dailisa's face before she shook her head and went on. "I cannot, even with Justice involved, imagine Anders willfully doing this. There have to be things we don't know!"  
     Dailisa stopped pacing as a knock sounded on the door.  
     "Enter!" Alistair called out. A young and slightly gangly page opened the door, darting nervous glances around the room before coming to stand in front of Alistair's desk, gripping a parchment and staring at the floor.  
     "The Revered Mother said to bring this to you right away, Your Majesty." He gingerly laid the parchment on the desk and stepped back, glad to be relieved of his burden.  
     Alistair eyed the parchment dubiously. "What is it, lad?"  
     The boy shrugged and answered, "Dunno, sire. Was nailed to the front door of the Chantry and when the Revered Mother ripped it down, she gave it to me and told me to show you, quick-like."  
     Alistair picked it up as if it might explode on him, and opened it to read it aloud,

**"Ninety Five Reasons Mages Should Be Free"**

Not really, but I hope that got your attention.  
There are only two reasons that mages should be free.  
 **1** )Because we're people.  
Thinking, reasoning, normal people  
 **2)** Because we will no longer be bound.  
I declare on this day, to all of Thedas and the Maker, that I am a free mage  
and that I dedicate my life to making sure that every mage child is allowed to grow up in the light of love and support.  
I will do whatever is necessary to ensure that future generations can have what we have been denied and I implore  
every decent, thinking mage to do the same.  
This is my warning to the Chantry to WAKE UP  
because it is already too late to do anything but get out of the way. "

 

     The King of all of Ferelden looked shaky and sick as he put the letter down. "It's signed, "The Champion of Kirkwall". "

 


	5. Freedom and Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anders asks some hard questions and Hawke gives the real reason.

Dailisa Cousland stepped out of the castle gates with a small nod to the guards and pulled her hood over her head.  It was harder to get out into the city than it used to be but not impossible.  Alistair had argued about this-he'd wanted to go with her, but in the end they both knew that his presence would negate what they were trying to do.  She assumed that he was, right this moment, pacing in their personal quarters, frowning and looking out the windows.

There were places near the alienage where the poorer folks in Denerim could find healers, both mages and herbalists, without anyone asking questions.  They were also the kind of places that, even if someone looked twice, no one would believe that she was really the Queen. So as long as she didn't actually draw attention to herself she thought she should be fine.  And, if Anders was still *at all* Anders, this is where he'd be.

She found a likely spot to take up and lounged against a wall,pushing back her hood to show her face and pretending to inspect the dagger she'd brought-her only weapon tonight.  She had only been there for a half hour or so before a hooded figure slid unobtrusively next to her and said quietly, "You used to carry a much bigger weapon, I recall. I take it the King is taking care of all your big weapon needs now?"

Dailisa nearly punched Anders in relief. He gestured and started walking and she followed him into a dingy little room down a side alley.

He ushered her inside and turned to bolt the door behind them.  When he turned back toward her he let his own hood drop showing a gaunt and haggard face.  He smiled then and was transformed. The queen punched him several times in the arm.

"Andraste's Ass, Anders! What have you gotten yourself into?"

Anders was trying to struggle out of this onslaught when the queen heard "Ahem. Your majesty." from behind her.

She let go of the mage and whirled around, reaching for her dagger. She saw a red headed woman standing there with her arms crossed, her green eyes amused.

"It's good to know, Your Highness, that I am not the only one to have ever had that urge." 

Anders stepped between them and gestured at Dailisa, saying, "Her Majesty, The Hero of Ferelden, and other suitably impressive titles, I would like to introduce you to the Champion of Kirkwall, and my favorite title-Love of My Life. I would also like to register a request for a fancy title of my own."  Both women turned to look at him and he shrugged and said to the woman who must be called Hawke, "She was a friend to me and to Justice and I am glad she's here."

 

* * *

 

_You can't believe your luck.  Or the Templar ability to be stupid._

_You seem to be the only apprentice who isn't at least a little disdainful of being outside._

_You understand, though, that most of these poor sods don't remember what it was like not to be caged and you feel sorry for them._

_Today though, you don't feel all that sorry because you know that you're going to be shut of this place by nightfall._

_As they march you all out to the dock for some "exercise", you position yourself near the edge and begin to, for all appearances, be the good little mage doing what he's supposed to be doing._

_But you watch and the moment your two keepers get bored and start chatting with each other instead of watching the mages, you smile at the cute little elven apprentice who has been watching you since you all came out, hold your arms out to your sides and fall backward into Lake Calenhad._

_Then you thank the Maker you learned to swim as a little one and make for the shore._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The joy I feel at seeing the Queen surprises me. What's more surprising to me, although it shouldn't be, is that I think Justice is also glad to see her. I am almost giddy as I lead her back to our little hovel.  After I bolt the door and turn to look at her, I am so happy to see her that, for a moment, I am utterly shocked when she strikes me, but I feel a deep sense of amusement and I realize that Justice thinks this is funny.

 As I handle the introductions, I find myself falling back into my old role as mouthy rebel and I marvel that I'm still capable at this point.

I remember though, and we... I need answers about something important.  I feel Justice tense and I think, 'Wait. Let me at least ask. I don't think she would lie to us. We need to at least know the truth.' Justice relaxes, and it goes back to being just me, us.

I take a deep breath and step toward the queen.  I look down at her, she looks up at me, and I can see in those yellow cat eyes of hers that she knows what I'm going to ask. I see her steel herself and this steels me, as well.

"Why did you let Rolan betray me to the Templars?"  I sound much calmer than I feel. So much blood, so much rage. I see Hawke tilt her head and draw herself up.  She thinks there will be violence.

Dailisa, never wavering from my gaze, says, "I did not. I would not have. Weisshaupt knew that and so went around me. I did not know what had happened until it was...far too late. I'm so sorry, Anders."

She glances over at Hawke then and says tersely, "Stand down, please. I'm not going to hurt him."

Hawke doesn't move. "I'm not worried that you will hurt him." 

I am indignant but Dailisa puts a hand on my chest to stay my outburst. "I'm not afraid of either of them. They were both friend to me."

Hawke stands down then. "I forget that you knew them when they...they were seperate."

I pull my attention back to Dailisa, who's giving me a calculating look. "Admittedly, I have only seen this once before and I never had cause to want to talk directly to the spirit inhabiting her.  Can I talk to Justice? Can I talk to the both of you together?"

I blink down at her. "You are talking to both of us. I think, though, that he would like to talk to you himself. I've never actually given over control of myself willingly so this should fun."

The queen smiles at me and, forgetting for a moment what my life is now, I smile back at her. 

"My heart is glad, Anders, "she says quietly, "That neither of you is wandering alone."

She gestures for me to sit in one of two chairs in the room and I do.

"Now," she says, "I need to know why you're here. I will not have a repeat of what happened in Kirkwall."

I feel Justice stir and after I hold up my hand to stay Hawke, I take a mental "step" back.

 

* * *

 

 

**_I feel Anders relinquish his hold and I am ready._ **

**_I launch myself out of this chair, toward the small human who once called me friend._ **

**_"What happened in Kirkwall was justice! Now we can start the real work of freeing mages from the centuries long abuses put forth by Templars in full view of the Chantry and it's supposed "Protection"!_ **

**_I spit that word out, yet she stands firm. It is...good that she is not afraid.  I see, also, that his Hawke is not afraid and I respect her further._ **

**_"You call that justice! Innocent people died! How is that just?!" She shouts at me, and I welcome it. "That is vengeance, not justice! And it's starting a war!"_ **

**_"GOOD! Sometimes, Commander, the only real justice IS vengeance!"_ **

**_She opens her mouth and I speak on, before she can get started._ **

**_"This was NOT vengeance. This was the removal of options. These Templars would justify more and more slavery and abuses heaped onto the mages of Thedas and no justice would be had at all because of sloth and complacency.  Now there MUST be action. And with action will come justice."_ **

**_I relent slightly, and go on. "The loss of life is, truly, regrettable.  But it is necessary."_ **

**_I cross my arms, and let Anders take over._ **

 

* * *

 

 

Hawke raised her eyebrows as she watched Anders stagger back into the chair and hang his head, his blonde hair unbound and covering his face. He seemed physically fine so she spoke to let him have this moment to reorient himself.

"They wanted me to execute him for the explosion, you know." At this, Dailisa looked sharply at Hawke.

"I can see that some would want him executed, but to make you do it..."

Hawke smiled bitterly.  "It's a good thing they did, or he...we would not be here now."

The Queen shook her head and looked pensive. "I cannot imagine being put in that position. I can't say that I wouldn't have also chosen the more selfish option."

Hawke narrowed her eyes.

"It was not purely selfish, your Majesty, "she answered, "Although I freely admit that much of it was."

She began pacing the small room, looking at the floor. "He started a revolution with that bloody explosion and I will be damned if he was going to leave me to deal with it alone!" Dailisa saw Anders jerk his head up to look at Hawke, shocked. 

She looked at Hawke herself then, who had stopped to look at Anders with a tenderness that broke Dailisa's heart a little.

 "And, too, to kill him in cold blood, even if I could have, " She cleared her throat before going on, her eyes never leaving Anders' face, "would have been an act of vengeance, not justice. It is more just don't you think, "she cleared her throat again and looked at Dailisa, "to make him live with what he's done?"

She looked back down at Anders, who was looking decidedly poleaxed and smiled softly at him.  "But mostly, I want him to be able to see that everything he has sacrificed and everything he has done *will* lead to freedom for mages." 

She then strode across the floor to kneel in front of Anders and touch his face.

"That, too, is justice."

 


	6. You Will Never Take Another Mage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which we learn what the Queen thinks of Isolde, and Anders is freee.

_You are trying to remember what grass smells like. Or what sunlight feels like on your face._

_You've been locked in this cell for 246 days._

_At this point you think they may never let you out.  You have been here so long that the site of the templar stuck with delivering your meals makes your heart sing.  He never speaks though and you have not heard another person's voice in months._

_You find yourself alternating between elaborate revenge fantasies involving fire raining down on every templar in Thedas and an utter dispair that leaves you unmoving and silent.  You wonder briefly if you should maybe kill yourself, but they don't give you anything that might do and your magic doesn't work._

_That's the worst part. You are a healer by nature and to not be able to call mana for even those magics is terrifying and leaves you feeling lost and disconnected._

_You cannot remember a time when "the blue light" was not available to you._

_After another bout of impotent weeping, you gather yourself together with resolve._

_You will get out of here. First, this cell. You will be a good little compliant mage._

_You will smile and dance to their tune and be what's expected of you.  You know they will get complacent again._

_Then, this prison. And you will do whatever it takes to break their hold on you._

_You need to get out of here, so you can find your phylactery and finally, finally, be free._

 

* * *

 

Hawke walked into the meeting room with the Queen consort of Ferelden, feeling woefully vulnerable.  This seemed incredibly dangerous and she wished that Anders was here.  He'd wanted to be but the Queen had flatly denied him and after asking him what he thought would happen if he, or Justice, felt cornered, he grudgingly agreed.

Looking around, she was relieved to see only the King and the man who was with him when she'd met him in Kirkwall.

She waited until the door was shut behind her then bowed and said, "Your Majesty. It's good to see you again." 

Alistair nodded toward Teagan and replied, "You remember my uncle Teagan."  Hawke nodded, taking a seat next to the queen.

The King, sitting at the long meeting table, leaned back in his chair and said, "What brings you to Denerim, Champion? I do hope it's not to blow up a Chantry full of people." He sits forward and frowns. "Because you cannot expect me to condone such a thing!"

He stands then, unable to contain his outrage. "How can YOU condone such a thing?!"

Teagan says, "Your Majes..." but is cut off by a curt gesture from Alistair. Dailisa stands to face her husband.

"You can shout at her later. That's not why she's here." Alistair exchanged silent glares with his queen for several seconds, then breathed sharply through his nose and sat back down.

"What can you possibly want from me, then, Champion?"

"Access to the phylacteries."

The King blinked several times, looked at his wife, the back at Hawke, who was the picture of calm. She might have been asking for tea.

Hawke leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and spoke to the King intently.

"Your Majesty. You saw firsthand what the templars have turned into in the Free Marches. I grew up here so I know that it's not much different in Ferelden. Your wife has told me that you were nearly one of their order, so I also know that you KNOW what they're like."

Alistair shot a narrow glance at his wife, who gave him a bland look in return.  He returned his gaze to Hawke. "You may have a point, but there *are* valid reasons to have some measure of...control over mages. Even you have to know that."

Teagan looked thoughtful. "Alistair.  We were just talking about Connor earlier."  The king shot out of his chair again. "He's exactly what I mean, Teagan! Andraste's Ass, HE is the perfect example of why mages need some sort of control."

At this, the queen shot out of her own chair in a fury. "Alistair!  If Connor is an example of anything, he's the perfect example of why the circle doesn't work! If his selfish, void-forsaken mother hadn't been terrified that they'd take Connor away, EVERY SINGLE BIT OF THAT COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED!"

Everyone stared at the Queen in silence as she stood there, shaking with barely suppressed rage, working to regain control of herself.

Alistair looked pale and shaken. After a few moments, he sat down slowly and spoke quietly. "Go back to your place and talk to no one but my wife or Teagan. I will see if I can do this."

 

* * *

 

 

My heart is hammering in my throat as Hawke and I walk into a nondescript building in the ass end of Denerim. We have a key and some official looking paperwork provided to us indirectly by the King of Ferelden.  Hawke told me a bit about the king's young cousin and the Queen's reaction and defense.  I am glad to know that Ferelden is in good hands. We lock the door behind us and make our way through a hallway and down a set of stairs.  I think I may pass out when I see a man standing in front of the door at the far end of this hallway. Hawke touches my arm and whispers, "That's the King, Anders. Will you watch up the stairs while I go see what he needs?"  I nod while I will my nerves to calm.  I watch her greet the king, then I turn and walk up a few steps so that I can hear anything above from the other hallway.

After a few minutes, the King says, at the bottom of the stairs. "Go on, then. I'll be gone when you get back up to the main door. Be quick about it. And Maker watch over you."

And with that, he bounds up the stairs around me and I head toward Hawke who's standing in the open doorway facing me, waiting.

 We step into the room together and both of us look around.

Hawke speaks softly, awe in her voice. "I thought there'd be more of them."

There are less than 75 small, glittering, vials in this room, apparently organized by alphabet.

I answer, just as softly, "The apprentice phylacteries are housed elsewhere until they pass their Harrowing and there aren't so many mages in Ferelden as there were in Kirkwall."

I am terrified that mine is not here and I start looking around in what I hope is a casual manner.  Hawke is obviously tense as she also begins to look around.

"I can't believe that these seem to be in alphabetical order.  It seems so simple."

My heart stops as I find it, then gallops off again and I fight to control my voice as I reach out and touch my phylactery. "It has to be simple. The templars are the ones who come in here."

It's such a small bottle, so unembellished. Just a rune and my... I run a finger, gently, reverently, over the letters on the simple handwritten label as Hawke says fearfully, "Anders? I don't see yours. I'm looking where there are others with A names, but I don't see..."

I look at my beautiful Hawke, my Andien, and I hesitate for just a second before I drop the vial on the floor at my feet.  Its shattering is possibly the sweetest sound I have ever heard after the holiest of words.  I drag my boot across the shards, obscuring the label and turn to look at an open mouthed Hawke.

"It's alright, Love. It was over here. It's gone now. Let's free the rest of them and get out of here."

 

* * *

 

 

The First Enchanter blinked several times then jumped to his feet.

"Your Majesty! It's an honor to have you here but I was not expec.." He trails off as the King of Ferelden slams the door shut behind him, leaving them alone in the room.

"First Enchanter, I have news that you need to hear from me, right now, then I need to go before anyone knows I'm here."

The First Enchanter is completely at a loss for words. He nods once and Alistair nods in return and swallows visibly before speaking.

"Every phylactery in Denerim has been destroyed. Every single one."

The First Enchanter jerked as if an arrow'd struck him. "Your majesty, who knows this besides you?"

"You. I must go now. Do you what you see fit. Maker watch over you." Alistair turned on his heel, put his helmet on and strode out.

The First Enchanter swayed slightly, then gathered his resolve.

"Maker watch over us all."

 

* * *

 

 

A flyer found nailed to the door of the Denerim Chantry:

 

**Notice to Templars of the Ferelden Chantry**

 

_We can hear you coming but you can't track us._

_You can either lay aside your flaming sword and help_

_finish the liberation of the Free Mages of Ferelden, or you_

_can spend all of your life in the same fear of capture and death_

_that you have visited upon us._


	7. The Tower Stands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which some of them stay, the King may have to kick some ass, and Anders remembers his Harrowing

_You wake up as you are being bodily pulled from your bunk by two templars. You try to protest as one covers your mouth and whispers viciously in your ear, "Shut up, fool! We're not going to hurt you! Hush!" They shove your robe at you and you're so confused you actually put it on._

_You let them pull you along while you try to wake up enough to remember what in the Void you did this time.  When you finally take enough notice to realize that they're taking you up instead of down, you realize you're on the Templar floor and all the blood leaves your head, throwing sparkles into the edge of your vision._

_Maker!_

_This must be your Harrowing._

_You stop and bend over wondering vaguely if passing out in the hallway before you ever get to the Harrowing chamber counts as an automatic fail._

_After several deep breaths and a frustrated, "Tsk!" from one of the templars, you stand up, smooth your robes and grimly go with them._

 

* * *

 

In a place like the tower, where everyone is always locked up in close proximity, gossip is a way of life.  So, I have never understood why we didn't know more about the Harrowing. I am thinking about last night as I lay in my bunk pretending to still be asleep. I've already heard three different versions of how mine went and I haven't even opened my eyes.

I get it though. It's kind of like old mages who've seen bad things-you can't ever get them to talk unless they're drunk.

It's not that it's traumatic, or well, I guess it probably is for some.  I suppose it's never comfortable dealing with your innermost desires.  As I found myself standing in front of the lyrium bowl that they use to do the summoning, I locked eyes with the templar recruit whose job it was to kill me if I gave in and I realized that it was as much a test for that poor bastard as it was for me. I wonder if he has any more choice in this than I do, and for the first time in my life, I feel a little sympathy for them.

I am not afraid of the Fade- it's always been close to me. Irving says that's because I'm what he calls a spirit healer.  There are only a small handful of these types of healers in the Tower, and I'm the only apprentice.  Well, was the only apprentice.

I am a little disapointed at the demon, though. It was incredibly predictable in what it offered me. Of course it offered me what I want most, but since I KNOW I can never have that, it was easy to turn down. If he'd offered me a night in a tavern, or a handful of lovelies for a few days, we might have been in business. I don't get why everyone is so terrified of demons. Any mage worth his salt would see their shit coming a mile away.  How hard is it to say no?  Well, maybe it is for the ones who don't come back.

"Is he still sleeping?" a hushed voice sounds near the foot of my bed.

"Yes. I heard it took six Templars to drag him upstairs and he fought all the way."

Well, at least they're not saying I pissed myself in fright. 

 

* * *

 

 

The Knight Commander of the Ferelden Circle of Magi politely bowed before King Alistair and then spoke. "Can I have a word with Your Majesty in private? It's relatively important."

If the King was worried about what the Knight Commander had to say, he didn't show it as he said, "Of course. Follow me." He rose from his throne, even still wishing he could just do audiences at a tavern table, and led the way to his study. He noticed the Queen step in behind and follow them. He knew she would stand guard outside the door and was glad, not for the first time, that he'd married a woman who could kick his ass seven times out of ten. It left him with little need for a guard, if she was around.

Alistair shut the door after they both entered and turned to face the Knight Commander. "What's the issue, Ser?"

"We had a small "issue" with a few escaped mages, Your Majesty. We find that we now have a large issue with these escaped mages."  The Knight was visibly agitated, however his voice remained calm.  The king crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, bidding the man to continue.

"The phylactery repository has been... vandalized."

Alistair waved one hand dismissively. "Oh. That."

The Knight Commander took several aggressive steps toward the King who straightened up and dropped his hands to his sides in preparation.

"YOU KNEW?!"

"Step back, Ser." Alistair said calmly.

The Templar didn't move. "How long have you known?!"

Alistair stared down his long nose at the knight. "You need to stand down. Unless you're really interested in challenging your king right now."

The Knight Commander reluctantly stepped back and the King began to pace.

"Of course, I knew. I am the King. It's my job to know."

"Then you know the danger we face..."

"Danger? What mages have left the tower? All of them, some of them, evil nasty bloodmages? What?"

The Knight Commander narrowed his eyes. "This is not the time to be flippant, Your Highness. People could be in danger. You saw what happened in Kirkwall when mages are let loos..."

The King strode to stand in front of the templar. "What happened in Kirkwall is far more an example of what happens when you cage people with that much latent power. **If** we're going to blame an entire group of people for the actions of one disturbed man."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hawke hovered just inside the door of the First Enchanter's quarters.  He smiled kindly and waved her in. "Go ahead and shut the door, dear. We can talk in relative peace that way."

Hawke did so, then found a place to sit.

"So, you're the Champion of Kirkwall, then?" The First Enchanter sounded wary but friendly.

Hawke cringed. "I am a free mage, First Enchanter. And Ferelden is my home."

The First Enchanter smirked into his beard. "You are all free mages, now. Thanks, in part, to you, I am lead to believe?"

Hawke shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm not trying to be a hero, I just think the kind of freedom that I was allowed to grow up with should not be against the law. You must at least be sympathetic to the idea, given your choices here."

The elder mage nodded. "Yes. I understand it, and if I were not First Enchanter, and old as the Maker, I may have left as well.  But there are still children here who need taught. Who don't have parents to return to, or whose parents...prefer that they stay here." He frowned bitterly for a moment, then resumed his bland expression. "And there are a few of the younger mages who are, understandably, a bit frightened about the freedom suddenly thrust upon them. So, it is for all those reasons that I stay. I am needed here."

Hawke sat back and looked thoughtful.  "I had hoped that this was the case. Over time, my hope is that this can be a place of learning rather than a prison. A place where children can learn and then go home to their families."

The First Enchanter smiled. "Young lady, these are noble goals, and worth striving for.  I am too old, though, to hope that they can be accomplished with no bloodshed."

Hawke flinched slightly then cleared her throat. "It's too late for that, anyway. Violence isn't the goal, however, and I will do what I can to see that it's...minimal.

I'm here, First Enchanter, to see if you need anything. To see if the tower is safe."

The First Enchanter laughed. "No where in Thedas is safe for a mage, my dear. The only difference now is that neither are the Templars. We're fine. The templars who've stayed do so out of obligation for their duty, and thus we can, together, hold the tower against most things, if it comes to that. We're fine. Is there anything we can do for you, my lady?"

Hawke stood and smoothed her jacket, smiling slightly. "No, thank you. I think it's just a matter of tying up loose ends and seeing where everything goes from here."


	8. Taint is a Stupid Word, Anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone thinks being a Warden is bullshit.

_"Uncuff me! I can help, you bastard! Maker, undo the cuffs!" Finally, the templar clumsily unlocks the shackles that bind your hands._

_You don't have any idea what's going on. Are these darkspawn? Isn't this a Grey Warden's keep? Where are the Wardens? Where did all these darkspawn come from?_

_Shit, are you the only one alive now? Shitshitshit! Without any conscious thought you throw your hands up in front of you, as much in fear as anything else and you let the fire come.  As if you could stop it._

_After a few seconds everything stops moving and you can breathe again. Shit. You need to get out of here. You turn to run and stop in your tracks as two women are standing in front of you, wearing heavy armor and shocked expressions._

_You look around yourself and see that you *are* the only one alive now. Shit. Think fast, charmer. You have to get out of here._

 

"Uh... I didn't do it."

 

* * *

 

Dailisa sits back and raises a brow at me before answering my question. "Well, it's no better or worse than it was. Or rather, at least I don't currently hear the Archdemon every time I close my eyes, but still, you know, darkspawn. Why do ask?"

I want to be able to tell her that there's no reason to my questions, but I owe her honesty. "I think...we think...shit, I think the taint is affecting me...us."

"You mean it's affecting the both of you. It affects all Grey Wardens to some degree or another, you know that. What's happening exactly?"

I'm not sure where to start, so I take a deep breath and absently gather my hair in my hands to tie it back before I realize I don't have a tie with me.

"For the most part, Justice and I coexist equally.  Both "I" and "We" work equally well to describe this situation, and I don't think there's any real way to know where I stop and he starts."

"But you can...erm let Justice 'drive the cart', so to speak. I've seen it."

"Yes, but that was the first time I'd ever given over on purpose. In the Fade, it's the opposite- Justice always 'drives the cart', as you say, but generally, he only comes out when I have lost all control of myself, when I've been filled with more impotent rage than I know what to do with and he has reminded me that I am no longer impotent in those situations by taking over until I can get a grip."

I know that Hawke thinks those times are a result of my being unable to control Justice, but I have no way to explain to her that it doesn't work like that, that it's far closer to the truth that Justice protects me from my own weaknesses. 

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table we're sitting at before going on. "Since we came back to Ferelden it's been different. I'm having a hard time focusing, well harder than normal, and the nightmares are even affecting Justice."

At this, the Queen looks sharply into my face. "Is it the Calling, Anders?"

The Calling. The thing they don't tell you about being a Grey Warden until it's too late. Eventually, the darkspawn taint corrupts your blood until you either die or become darkspawn yourself.  The conscientious Warden goes to the Deep Roads, ostensibly to die valiantly in battle against the darkspawn that define our very lives.  In reality, it's much more so that no one you love has to see what you become.

"No, I don't think so, exactly. But I'm a little afraid of what will happen when it *is* time, if I'm being honest." I look up at my friend, glad that I can speak plainly about this to someone. "We both know what an abomination is like. What would a Darkspawn abomination be like?"

She exhales slowly. "Oh, Maker, Anders."

I feel myself smiling a bit ruefully. "I see you grasp the finer points of this. There is that to consider, and what scares me more is that I can't always...the "glowy bit" is what Hawke calls it, and lately, it happens without any active thought from Justice or me. And with it come thoughts that seem foreign and terrifying to me...to us."

I reach across the table to touch the hand of one of my dearest friends. I used to touch people easily, all the time. I don't have words to say how much I miss that easiness sometimes.

"I'm used to being afraid of the strangeness my life has become. It's never been a big deal, really, because Justice has courage for both of us." She squeezes my hand and I want to cry. "But Justice is just as scared of these thoughts as I am."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"No! Not the Deep Roads. It's not a law or anything!" Anders spoke abruptly, eyes wide. "Please don't make me go back there."

The Warden studied him with some sympathy. "No, it isn't a law. But it *is* a safety concern. You know that."

Anders seized on that. "Yes, but isn't it also a very real danger that I...Look. Let's be perfectly honest here.  The way I am now..us...whatever. Not to put too fine a point on it, but it would take a lot of darkspawn a long damn time to kill me. Before-while I would like to think I would have been able to hold my own-I was still only one mage.  Now though..." He trailed off as the Warden grew pale, then drew a deep breath and went on again. "There's also this to consider-What if I don't lose sentience? I've spent hours and hours-days and days, probably-thinking about all aspects of this. What if I become, instead, something like the Architect? With Justice trapped inside. What then?"

"Andraste's Grace, Anders." The Warden draws a shuddering breath. "Then what do you propose?"

Anders leans back in his chair. "The Wilds."

The Queen laughed shortly. "You'd make an odd Witch of the Wilds, Anders." The mage rolled his eyes, but smiled slightly anyway.

"I would be away from people there..."

The Warden nodded at that. "And you could be reached with needful things."

Anders nodded in return. "Yes, but you have to promise me that you will check on me from time to time, and that you won't tell Hawke where I am, no matter what.  I can't...I won't let her see what I will become. " Anders then gazes over the Warden's left shoulder, unwilling to look her in the face. "And you have to promise to end me, if I can't or won't when it's time."

"Riiigght. Because I'm so much tougher than a shitload of darkspawn." She looked decidedly skeptical.

 

* * *

 

 

Alistair shoved a piece of parchment at his wife as she walked into his study. He said nothing, but shot a meaningful glance toward the apparent messenger, dressed in Grey Warden issue and she steeled herself as she looked down.

 

_"We assume that by now you're aware of the events of violence in the Free Marches, and we also assume that you're aware that a renegade Warden, formerly under Ferelden's Commander is the responsible party. We have reason to believe that there are other issues with this person as well.  We also have information that says he may have tried to return to Ferelden.  He is deranged, unstable and dangerous, but we believe that these issues can be handled here._

_If he could be found, we would like him remanded to our custody for his safety and the safety of others._

_~First Warden, Weisshaupt Fortress "_

The Queen raised an eyebrow and addressed the messenger. "You're aware of what this says?" When the junior warden nodded warily, she continued. "Any idea why this was addressed to His Majesty and not to myself?" The young Warden cringed visibly, then mastered himself and spoke softly, with a slight, but noticable Anders accent, "I was lead to understand that you might be...less receptive to me than the King would be."

The Queen snorted and the King spoke quickly. "While that may be, what does the First Warden expect me to do about it? Or am I to take it that I am no longer in disgrace for daring to choose Ferelden over taint?" When the young man blanched, Alistair crossed his arms and exhaled in frustration. "Look man. What is the First Warden actually saying?"

"Your Majesty, I can't possibly kno..."

"They think we know where he is, Alistair. Or rather, they think that *I* know. Which is why they thought they might go around me. AGAIN." The queen turned on her heel and marched out of the study, slamming the door behind her. Alistair looked pained for a moment, then addressed the younger Warden. "I don't have him. Why would the Wardens give a damn about keeping him from execution? It's not like he'd suddenly stop being a flight risk, you know."

The junior warden looked surprised. "You don't know, then, what else is at stake? I would have assumed that your wife told...but then, maybe not."

The king narrowed his eyes. "Told me what?"

"He's an abomination, Your Majesty. With the Taint."

 

 

* * *

 

 

I feel absurdly like I should have combed my hair when I recognize that the large blonde man standing beside the Queen is her husband-the King of Ferelden. There doesn't seem to be any fanfaire so I duck my head and say, "Your, uh, Majesty."

Alistair nods and I see him look around for someplace to sit before he settles on leaning against the wall beside the door. The Queen comes to stand in front of me, all business, and that makes me afraid.

"Anders, I have news. You're probably going to want to sit for it."  I glance over at the king who is now looking like he'd rather not be here and I get the feeling that it's more to do with this news than this rented room. I debate standing just to be contrary, then I sigh and pull out a chair from the table and turn it backwards and sit, eyeballing the Queen.

She looks at me for several seconds and I realize that she's trying to figure out how to tell me whatever this is and I get frustrated. "Just spit it out, would you?"

Her look of relief is almost funny to me. She's always been an odd woman. Loyal and wonderful and definitely odd.

"We've had word from Weisshaupt." I feel the blood begin draining from my head, and I am glad that I'm sitting. She frowns as she continues. "There isn't a delicate way to put this, Anders. They know about you and Justice and they want you. You are a new and unique thing, and you know how the Wardens are. The shitty part is that they know you're in Ferelden, and they're actively looking for..."

  1. Oh Maker. So much blood, so much death. Not again, not again, **NEVER AGAIN**. I will not be locked up, not be a prisoner! Nononono **NONO! THEY WILL NOT HAVE ME!**



I can't move, I can't talk. I'm on my knees but I cannot move. I feel like I've run for miles.  As I catch my breath, I slowly regain the ability to move and I look around because I cannot remember where I am. Hawke is standing to my right, her hands out in front of her, and I know that she is why I was paralyzed. She looks stricken and I try to speak, to tell her I understand, but I cannot and only a templar can do **that** to me. Not again. Not again. Oh Maker, Oh Maker, Oh Maker.

"ANDERS. Calm down." It's Dailisa. I open my eyes to see her looking wary. She hasn't drawn her weapon, and I am relieved. Then I see the King standing directly behind her, with his hand out in front of him. Why didn't I smell the lyrium before? I leap to my feet, mad as flames, and he reluctantly lowers his hand.

"YOU'RE A FUCKING TEMPLAR?!" I see that this pisses him off and I'm glad.

"I am NOT a templar! But it's a good thing I know what I know, you could have killed everyone in this room! What the blaz...."

**"You will not control me, templ..."**

"Andraste's left nipple! The males in this room need to put their measuring sticks away. Now."  Well, at least we all stop and look at her. "No one's locking you up, Anders. And Justice, for the Maker's sake, Alistair is on your side." The warden then looks at Hawke, sympathetically.  "It's alright, Hawke. Sit down before you fall down, please."


	9. The Day That Never Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone realizes it's time.

_You hear him and you wish he would go away._

_He's the best friend you have and you don't want him to know what you've done._

_He doesn't go away-he never does-so when he comes into the clearing you let him see what you are now._

_"Go away, Nate. You don't know what I've done."_

_You smell that he's afraid, but he is always brave._

_"Yes, I do. And I'm not going away."_

_You realize then that he's afraid *for* you, but that doesn't make any sense._

_You realize that he feels guilt but that doesn't make sense either._

_He is a good and just man._

_So you take his hand and let him pretend you are still just Anders. Justice._

_Shit, this is hard._

 

* * *

 

"Hawke, I'm fine. I can't help it that being silenced scares me and I'm sorry if I frightened you." I brush Hawke away and flop down into the chair in our tiny room. Dailisa and the King, that bastard, are gone and I am so tired. I look at Hawke, my Andien, her green forest eyes studying me. I narrow my own eyes at her as a thought occurs to me.

"You knew he was a templar." In all that, she was worried, yes, but not surprised.

She tilts her head at me, the red in that dark mass of hair catching a glint of light from the candle and glowing gold for a moment, the color of fire, and I realize that I missed some of what she was saying. I focus on her again and I see that she's frustrated with me but trying to hide it.

"I'm sorry, love. Say again?"

"Yes, I knew. I assumed you did too. How do you think we got into the phylactery chamber?" I blink several times, then as realization hits me, I am afraid I will pass out. I breathe for a few moments, afraid to say anything.

Me, who grew up in the Circle, I should have known, I knew that it takes a mage and a templar do any Maker-damned thing involving mage leashes. I feel so stupid!

"So that's why you gave me that shit about "standing guard". You didn't want me to know! Why would you, of all people, hide something like that from me!"

I hate when I yell at her like that, because I expect her to be apologetic in wariness. So I'm surprised when she steps toward me, her face angry.

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you!! I knew that you didn't think about it, and Anders, I am tired of your suspecting everyone of everything! You sound like Meredith did!"

'How dare you, after EVERYTHING we've seen, after everything yet to come. **I knew this was a distraction, I knew you couldn't be trusted!** No! She's righ... **NO. This ends now**!!"

I am laying on the floor, gasping for air. I feel magic and roll onto my side, Maker, it shouldn't be this hard to move, and I see that Hawke has encased herself in a barrier. She is shaking, she's had it up for awhile, and she's not going to be able to hold it for much longer.

I am still laying on my side, looking at her. She looks so afraid and I want to cry. She dispels the barrier and falls to her knees. I want to go to her. I sit up, intending to do just that when she speaks. I'm not sure I heard her correctly. I can't have heard her correctly.

"What?"

"I said, 'Don't touch me.'" She gets to her feet and walks out of our little hovel without a backward glance.

I do cry then, and I am disgusted with my weakness. Maybe it's me being disgusted with the way I am treating Hawke, but I don't think so.  


 

* * *

 

 

Dailisa walks into the little room without even a knock. I want to be surprised. Or indignant. Or anything really. Other than this dull fear and insistant harangueing about wasting time.

She looks around the room, looking for me, I think, and as those gold cat eyes of hers find me, she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows.

"You need a bath, Anders."  This is such a ridiculous statement that I laugh. It must sound different to her than it does to me because she frowns.

"Oh don't worry," I say to her, "I'm still me. Well, as much as I have been since..." I trail off and she looks sad.

"Get up and go sit at your table, Anders. I'm going to go get us something to drink and I will be right back."

She turns on her heel and stalks out. 'You do that.' I think to myself, but I get up and I go and sit at the table and I practice pretending I have any humanity left.

At some point, Dailisa returns, it's been minutes, or weeks...really, it's all the same. And she's got a bottle, and some bread and she sits down and hands me bread. I'm not sure what she wants me to do with it, so I hold it.

"Anders. Where do we go from here?"

You know, I have always loved this woman, a little bit. She does not fuck around with niceties and opinions and frivolous shit. I try to kill my woman, and instead of coming here to berate me or beat my ass, or whatever, she wants to know what's next. How the shit does the King live with her? Oh. Nate, probably. I remember then that she was talking to me, why is this so hard, and I look back at her.

"I think it's time, Commander."

I say these words in this manner because I want this to be official, because maybe that will keep emotion out of it. I watch Dailisa pull on the mantle of Warden Commander and I wonder if it's as heavy as it looks.

"Alright, Warden." She says to me, and I realize that, no, it won't keep emotion out of it, but maybe we will get through it. Maybe I will be able to use formality as an anchor to hold my shit together while this gets settled.

She gives me her hand, small and dark. I always wondered at that, her dark Rivaini-looking skin in that small, compact Ferelden body. I'm drifting again, shit. I focus on her again, and I see that she was waiting for me.

"Nathaniel will go with you and see you safe into the Wilds."  She always called him Nathaniel. Such a formal thing, but always filled with so much love. I wonder if the King is ever jealous. I used to be. Not of either of them, but of what they have. Then I met Hawke, my Andien. I will miss those dark forest eyes.

"Why Nate?" I was hoping Dailisa would go with me. She's the fiercest warrior I have ever known and I have always been safe in her company.

Dailisa frowned and her eyes were sad, but not for me. "Because I will kick your ass if you don't let him do this, Anders."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Nathaniel Howe had been leading Anders almost steadily south for several days. He had lead them to a point where he knew he could still backtrack his way to civilization, but he wasn't too keen on going much farther.  They found a likely clearing and made a pretty sturdy camp. Both of them were quiet, both of them knew this was the right thing.  

As Nate built up a small pile of wood and kindling to start a cook fire, he looked at Anders, who was quietly watching him and said, "You want to toss a little flame on this for me, Anders?" Anders gave him the expected rude hand gesture and then smiled at Nathaniel with naked gratitude.

"Step back, Jackass, and I will show you a trick." Nate raised his brows and did as Anders asked, just in time to watch a small fire light the wood pile, waver a bit, then take hold. Nate cheered.

"When did you finally figure that out?"

A shadow passed over his face. "Hawke taught me. That woman can conjur fire out of a lake, I swear. I've never seen anyone know fire like that. Fearless."

Nate folded his lanky form onto the ground next to Anders. "Dailisa likes her." Anders smiled sadly at Nathaniel, taking that for the high praise it was.

"Keep an eye on her, Nate? At least make sure Carver stays off her back." Anders wrinkled his nose and Nate laughed quietly.

"Carver's alright, Anders. He's grown up a lot since you dumped him on Stroud. He and Dailisa will look after her until she gets on her way."

Nathaniel grew serious. "Anders...I am glad that you found someone...well, worthy of you, you annoying ass."  He made a face at the ground.

"Oh man. This *is* serious business. You're getting feely." Nate shoots Anders a dirty look and Anders smiles.

"For what it's worth, I am glad that she let me love her. I mean, I am grateful, but always fairly surprised, to be honest, by the fact that she loves me, but being able to love her, these years...to look at her and wonder if my heart will burst out of my chest right there..."

Nate was smiling ruefully at his feet. "It does make a man breathless with feeling, doesn't it?"

Anders looked at his friend earnestly. "Has it been only her, man?"

Nathaniel gave Anders a grey gaze. "It's always been only her."

Anders pats Nate affectionately then fussed with his bedroll.

 

The third morning they were camped there, the two men were clearing away the remains of their morning meal. Anders watched Nathaniel walk back into the clearing and said, "I'm leaving."

Nathaniel studied his friend for a long moment. It had been a rough several days, filled with Anders lucidity coming and going.  He noticed this morning that Anders eyes, always a vibrant amber the color of sunsets, were starting to cloud over. As Nate studied Anders, the mage held up his left hand, showing the archer the dark patch on his wrist. Nathaniel nodded.

"Is there anything I need to know that you haven't said yet, Anders?" Anders stood up and walked over to Nathaniel, handing him a folded parchment.

"That is for my Hawke." As Nate nodded and stuck inside his shirt, Anders went on. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Nate Howe, you grouchy ass, and I love you for it. You're a good man, a just man, and I will miss you."

Nathaniel looked pained as Anders went on. "Now, though, is the hard part, Nate. I need you to make me a promise, and to keep it."

"If it's in my power, An..."

"It is. Shut up and listen."  Nathaniel clamped down on whatever his retort was going to be and nodded curtly.

Anders nodded back, smiling sadly. "I need you to check on me. I need to *know*, without a doubt, that you will end me the moment you think I am a danger to myself or anyone else. The moment."

Nate started shaking his head. "Anders, don't ask me this. You can't ask me this."

"Yes, I can. Nathaniel Howe. Your the best shot I have ever met and that's saying quite a bit, you know." Anders looked away from Nathaniel's sad grey expression. "And you will do it because you give a shit. About me, I mean."

Nathaniel studied Anders, then nodded once. "I promise."

Anders smiled sadly and was blindsided by Nate's embrace. The mage laughed, startled, returning the hug. "You don't have to do this Nate, I'm alri.."  
"Shut up, Mage. This isn't for you." After several seconds, a weeping Anders pushed Howe away.

"Jerk. Now I'm crying. Ass."  A dry eyed Nathaniel smiled sadly as the mage gathered his pack and started walking out of the camp. At the edge of their campsite, Anders turned around and said, "Stay safe, Nate." and turned to walk into the forest.

As Anders left their campsite, the first tear slid down Nathaniel's cheek. As he watched the best friend he'd ever had walk into the forest, he leaned down and picked up his bow.  As he gently knocked an arrow and took aim, he had to blink the tears away to clear his vision.

 

Just before Anders disappeared into the trees, Nathaniel Howe shot him in the back and whispered, "I'm sorry I was too late, my friends." dropping his bow with a deep, wracking sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been an immense labor of love for me. Love of Thedas, Love of Anders, Love of writing. This brought me back to writing actively. Thank you to everyone who's read the whole thing (!) and thank you to folks who like it. 
> 
> I want to add that this, like all my Dragon Age stuff, resides in the same "universe" involving my own play throughs and head-canons. Some of the scenes in here can be seen from other points of view in my Dailisa Cousland series and in other things I have posted and will be posting. :)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and I'd love to hear your comments! :D


End file.
